for my mother looks over me
by Gabby D
Summary: Even after her death, Gertrud can't let go. She watches over her little cobblepot as he grieves and fights. And then he finds that man. [Nygmobblepot]


At first, Gertrud can't do it. She can't watch her boy destroy himself over her, bleeding and in pain without being able to do anything about it. She curses the heavens for this torture, and for believing she could save her little cobblepot from all of this.

But then he finds that man.

She doesn't like him at first, he calls her boy by _that name,_ the name the bullies gave him, the name those criminals used as if it was a title. But he says it so softly and with such adoration, that Gertrud can't help but think maybe he's not like the others.

He takes care of her boy, takes him away from the grief from her death and sings him the song she used to at night.

And he calls him by that name, but her boy doesn't seem to mind it.

She's surprised when he admits to killing people, he seemed so kind and handsome; it takes her awhile to adapt to the fact that maybe that's the people her boy attracts. _That those are his people._

It saddens her, but she will never not be proud of her little cobblepot, and thus she keeps watching. She watches as the man says she was her boy's weakness, she watches as they use her name to torture and kill a man together.

She watches as the man slowly saves her boy's life. Not just from the wounds, but from himself as well.

It's off putting to watch her baby be treated as a mobster, holding a gun and making plans to kill a man. She should be used to that by now, she always knew deep down, but she had hopes. She didn't want to see it.

It kills her all over again when he goes to Arkham.

She sings to him, every night, even with the knowledge that he can't hear her. She has to watch her boy lose his mind and do nothing about it as a man uses her to destroy him.

Sometimes she visits her grave, she likes how the man — Edward — always greets her as if she could answer; always polite, never mispronouncing her surname. He always brings her lilies.

When they reunite, it breaks her heart to see her boy get rejected by a man she thought he could trust, and doesn't seem to understand why would he do so. They were friends, weren't they? Couldn't he see her boy wasn't well?

Her heart dances in her chest when in the end Oswald meets his father. Elijah looked just as handsome as she last remembered him, and she feels sad that the two of them lost the opportunity of raising their boy together. She doesn't like his wife, nor her kids. Little harlots, all of them. She could see how they looked at Oswald. Like the bullies that wouldn't leave him alone. No matter how much they tried to hide it with false smiles, she could see it in their eyes. They were villains.

When Elijah dies, she's right there in the ground with her boy. Yelling, crying, trying to hug him only to go right past him. He doesn't deserve this, neither of them did. If only she could've warned them, told them about the snakes plotting against their backs.

She doesn't look away when her boy kills her true love's murderer.

Gertrud watches as her boy falls into despair again, uttering nonsense into an empty mansion and keeping the head of the evil, evil woman in his living room. As criminals come and go in the house where she first met Elijah, where she fell in love. It was supposed to be where she and her true love raised their little cobblepot, a house for two people in love. Instead it was the house where she got her heart broken, where her love was murdered and her son almost lost his mind all over again.

 _Almost._

Because he found that man again.

She didn't expect him to visit Arkham again willingly, nor to forgive the man, Edward. She watches as her boy sends him gifts, rants to him and slowly regains himself by doing so. She's grateful, she really is, even if she still hasn't forgiven him for turning her boy away. Her heart aches for the man for she sees what the dreadful place is doing to him; the once composed and elegant Edward was a mess, aloof. They were saving each other.

She's proud of her boy when he lets the dreadful woman go, even more so when he starts his candidacy. He can do it, her little Oswald always had it in him. He only had to believe in it, in himself. He could have the world at his feet.

When he frees Edward from Arkham Gertrud is relieved, for both of them really. Ed for being rescued from that atrocious prison, and Oswald for now having someone at his side. Someone he could trust.

She saw how happy the man made him, how they took care of each other and made everything they could to make the other smile. Edward was a friend.

Gertrud didn't trust him, not yet anyway, that only came in when she followed him around and saw what he was doing for her boy. Taking the money back, risking everything, not because he wanted to sabotage Oswald but because, like her, he _believed_ in him. Believed in what he could do. He wanted him to win it honestly because he knew he could.

Oswald didn't understand, not at first. Always quick to get emotional, her little cobblepot; he pointed a gun at the man who only wanted him well.

She cried when it was announced that he won by a landslide, that the people adored him. Her boy was finally someone in this town, just like she knew he would one day. She's so proud of her baby, of her Oswald. She tries to touch his face, to hold him, but her body didn't let her; Gertrud could only watch, as always. A spectator to her boy's fate.

So that's what she does. She watches.

She watches as Oswald repeats the man's silly word play, like the clever boy he is. The answer comes to her at the same time it does to him, though she sees more than him.

 _Love._

Her boy was loved; not just by the people of Gotham, but by the kind man that took care of him when he was down. By Edward.

Edward, who is tall and handsome and dresses up all posh. Edward, who is a criminal and a murderer just like her Oswald. Edward, who is a man. A man she approved a long time ago, who was her boy's friend and was there for him, who took care of her grave and talked with her even when he didn't need to. A man who her son loved back.

Oh, but how Gertrud felt foolish for not seeing it sooner, for not realizing it.

Her baby was in love.

She watches them, even as she feels weaker and weaker each day. She watches as Edward fusses over him, helping him with the fancy clothes he loves so much and the business the both of them run together. She watches as they fumble together, unsure; as they smile at each other.

 _What if they don't like me?_ Gertrud remembers Oswald asking on his first day of school, dressed to impress even as a small boy.

 _If they don't like you, wait for them to turn their backs and push them down the stairs._ She hears her boy, now as a man, repeat the same advice she gave him years ago to the lonely kid. Such a kind hearted boy, her Oswald.

She watches him and Edward talking, stuck in their little world, and understands that this is it for her. Her little cobblepot had found someone to take care of him; he didn't need her anymore, and as much as that realization hurts she can't find it in her to be upset. No, she's delighted. He had found his one true love.

Gertrud looks over to her baby one last time, smiling through her tears. Oswald was _happy_.

"Thank you," she whispers to the man, and before she disappeared she could've sworn she saw him smile back at her.

She could finally rest and find her love again, for she knew she could trust Edward to watch over her boy in her place.


End file.
